


I'll Give You Something to Believe In

by sunshinewinchesters



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Bondage, BAMF Shane Madej, Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, Demon Shane Madej, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Ryan Bergara, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Shane Madej, Protective Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara Loves Shane Madej, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, Shane calls Ryan 'Ry' and you can't stop me, Shane is a protector goddammit I feel it in my HEART, Soul Bond, Supernatural Elements, oh you'll see what that means just you wait
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinewinchesters/pseuds/sunshinewinchesters
Summary: Shane should know better -- he is a demon, after all.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my version of the beloved demon Shane trope and is inspired by Young the Giant's song _Something to Believe In_. Go give it a listen if you haven't already! :)

So.

Shane can totally do this. He’s definitely not losing his shit. Nope, not at all. 

That ominous twinge of doubt in his lower stomach suggests otherwise, and he grits his teeth. For fuck’s sake. When did he become so _mortal_? 

“Hey, you okay?” Ryan’s voice pulls him instantly out of his train of thought, and one look at his best friend, and Shane’s worries fall to pieces. There’s something that’s innately comforting about Ryan’s smile, like as long as he’s got that big, toothy grin, everything can’t really be that bad.

Shane offers him the most reassuring smile he can muster up. “Yeah, just trying to remember if I left my toaster plugged in or not. Don’t want to start an electrical fire, my lease is almost up and I want my security deposit back.” Ryan’s grin grows even bigger and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he tries to contain his laughter so as not to disturb the other nearby cafe-goers. Something inside Shane loosens at the sound and he smiles more genuinely back, sinking into the warmth Ryan exudes like a freshly drawn bath. 

The sun slanting through the open blinds makes Ryan’s eyes the color of honey. Shane can’t help but think it’s fitting, considering the rich sunshine hue of his soul. “Hey, getting a deposit back isn’t _that_ important--”  
“You’re just saying that because you’re lucky your landlord didn’t kick you out _and_ keep yours after you set your kitchen on fire _two_ separate times!”  
“Hey, one of those times totally wasn’t my fault. There was something wrong with the stove, the lighter wasn’t working properly or something, we already went over this!” Ryan defends himself, eyes shining as he points his finger in playful accusation at Shane. Shane smirks and leans back in his chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he meets Ryan’s gaze.  
“Yeah, okay, I totally believe you. It was just -- a stove malfunction, Ryan would never do something to make Gordon Ramsay look down on him in shame.” Shane teases, and Ryan sighs exasperatedly, running a hand over his face and shaking his head with that smile still in place.  
“Shut up, Shane.”

Shane winks jauntily back and takes a sip from his mug, and they fall into a comfortable silence. This is just another of many things that Shane appreciates about them, about this natural, easy-as-breathing dynamic they’ve had since day one. It’s strange, how humans can have this...way of just being, with another person, where they don’t have to say anything but somehow they’re still on the same page. Except it’s not strange, not for them. He and Ryan have a lot of tacit conversations like this whenever they’re together, it’s all just second nature.

How did human nature become second nature with Ryan? 

Fuck, there he goes with the existential bullshit again. Shane’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t like it. Or, _shouldn’t_ like it.

A quick glance at his watch tells him they need to be get back on the road soon or they’re going to be late arriving at the “haunted” destination-of-the-week, which, according to Ryan, is going to be one of the most dangerous places they’ve ever visited due to the “very active” spirits in the area. And why wouldn’t Ryan want to be punctual for getting clawed by a ghost, or whatever else he thinks is going to happen? Sometimes -- okay, a lot of times -- Ryan’s eagerness to put himself into risky and potentially dangerous situations is a bit concerning, because aren’t humans supposed to have self-preservation instincts or something?

Shane’s reluctant to suggest that they finish up and get going, and not only because it means he has to go back to having his legs cramping up in the front seat of Ryan’s too-small car. It means an end to this moment, this nice, rare moment where Shane isn’t hyper-focused on everything making him want and worry, both of which are things he’s never really had to deal with up until he met Ryan. 

He can’t help but wonder when he got so human. What happened to the Shane who’d washed the still-warm gore off his hands in a gas station bathroom, some guy’s trachea in the trashcan next to him, and felt nothing?

One glance at Ryan leaving a too-generous tip on the table and Shane’s reminded immediately that, oh yeah, Ryan’s what happened to him. 

“I’m buying a pie to go and don’t even try to stop me from eating it in the car,” Ryan warns, pushing back from the table and coming over to stand by Shane’s side.  
“Oh dear god. It’s not going to be the ghosts that off us. Nope. We’re definitely going to die in some sort of bizarre pie-related car accident.” Shane rises from his chair and shoots Ryan his best exaggerated look of despair, and Ryan tilts his head back as he laughs, full sounds that come from deep in his chest. 

Shane swallows hard and reminds himself for the millionth time that he can do this. 

With Ryan at risk, he has to.

***

“Okay. Where the absolute fuck are we?” Ryan asks, and Shane grins.  
“Hmm. Well. I’m not a hundred percent sure, because there’s so many fucking trees and pretty much no signs--”  
“Shane.”  
“Okay, okay, we’re about a half hour away. The next turn off is in four miles, and from there it’s a straight shot to the house.” Shane turns his phone so Ryan can see that he does in fact have Google Maps up on the screen and that he isn’t just pulling it out of his ass.  
“Thank god. Man, I’m exhausted. But probably not exhausted enough to actually sleep tonight.” Shane chuckles at that, checking the time on his phone -- not even ten in the morning yet, and Ryan is already worn out and in desperate need of a nap. It might have been funny, if Ryan didn’t look so pale and shaky.

“True. Who needs caffeine when you’re scared a demon is going to eat your heart out?” Shane teases, and Ryan rolls his eyes, knocking his shoulder against Shane’s pointedly.  
“Ha ha. You know, one day a demon is gonna eat _your_ heart out, and you’ll just be laying there thinking, ‘damn, I wish I’d listened to my good ol’ pal Ryan instead of being a dick to the spirits, guess I deserve this’.” Shane scoffs goodnaturedly and raises an eyebrow at the believer.  
“You think that, even on my deathbed, I’d admit you were right? Joke’s on you, Bergara, Shane Madej admits fault to no man!” 

Their laughter drowns out the sound of late morning rain drumming on the roof and against the windows, and it’s nice. Shane much prefers L.A to the storms of the Pacific Northwest, but with Ryan right next to him pretty much being the human personification of sunshine, Shane doesn’t feel like he’s missing much. “Okay, but seriously, how can you not think we aren’t going to get murdered up here? This is classic horror movie bullshit, y’know, isolated cabin in the woods?” Ryan asks once he catches his breath.

“You’re right. I really got the serial killer vibe from the video chat, like when Doug offered us some of the extra quilts his wife made for the night and talked about how the rain is good for the garden he planted out back with his grandkids. Yeah, he’s totally going to hack us to bits and let his little chihuahua Sprinkles chew on our bones.” Ryan turns his head and squints at Shane, but he’s shaking with suppressed laughter and there’s that signature Bergara grin betraying him by lighting up his face.  
“Okay, you know what’s really creepy is that you remembered all those details. Only sociopathic killers remember stuff like that. Maybe _you’re_ the one I should be afraid of!” Ryan fires back and Shane snickers, trying to ignore the abrupt tightness in the back of his throat.  
“Come on, Ryan. If I was going to murder you, why would I go all the way to some place where I’m more likely to be struck by lightning or crushed by a falling tree when I could just do it from the comfort of warm and sunny, beautiful L.A? I’m disappointed. You know me better than this,” Shane scolds. 

Before Ryan can respond, he sways forward, hands loosening on the steering wheel as his eyelids flutter and he lets out a quiet groan. “Ryan? Ryan!” Shane shouts, grabbing hold of the steering wheel and setting their course straight again as Ryan slumps slightly towards him, hunched over with his face screwed up in pain. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” Shane demands, his free arm going around Ryan’s shoulders to prop him back up in his seat. The sheer intensity of the alarm and fear that punches the breath out of Shane’s lungs stuns him, triggering the rush of adrenaline surging through his vessel’s veins. 

“Shit, sorry.” Ryan squeezes his eyes shut for a split second and focuses back on the road, straightening up and gripping the wheel more tightly. Shane’s eyes are locked on his friend, not missing the way his shoulders tremble and his face has lost all color. While he doesn’t seem on the verge of passing out like he did just a minute ago, Shane’s still rigid and vigilant, powers gathered close to him and ready to use at any second.

Ryan shakes his head, the clarity returning to his eyes as he blinks and takes a deep, shaky breath. “That was fucking weird, what the hell? I just got really dizzy all of a sudden, felt like I was going to black out or something.”  
“We should pull over and you should let me drive. You don’t look too good, buddy. Were you feeling sick earlier?” Shane works to keep his voice from betraying the concern and panic still roiling in his guts, his tone way calmer than he feels. Ryan chuckles faintly and nods, pointing toward the exit up ahead and the roadside sign marking it as the turn off to a rest stop.  
“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea, it just came out of nowhere and I don’t want that to happen again while I’m driving. Though I’d almost rather risk it, considering you’re -- no offense -- a terrible driver, and this _is_ my car.” Ryan grins at him and Shane tries to remember how to reciprocate it, his brain still analyzing what happened and anticipating anything that could follow. 

“Sounds good,” Shane agrees, and watches Ryan carefully as he guides the car off the highway and onto the road forking off from it, searching for any indication that he’s about to pass out again. Something in the back of his head is prodding at him, demanding his attention, but he doesn’t pay it any mind until the car is safely parked and Ryan is leaning back in the front seat, sipping from his water bottle at Shane’s instruction.  
“I bet they have coffee or some sort of caffeinated beverage in there. Maybe that’ll help me snap out of whatever that was?” Ryan suggests, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I can get you some too-”  
“Wait, no, I’ll come with you.” Ryan raises his eyebrows, probably at Shane’s totally-not-casual tone (goddamn human emotions and his inability to suppress them), and Shane scrambles to fix it with a joke. He’s definitely not letting Ryan out of his sight, not after that. “What? Someone has to call 911 if you faint in there.” Ryan shoots him a good natured glare and huffs, a couple steps ahead of Shane as they enter the little public parks and recreation building. 

“I wasn’t going to _faint_ , I’m not some damsel in distress!” He argues, going straight to the refreshments table to make himself a coffee.  
“Fainting’s not only for Disney princesses, Ry. It’s also for… people who are scared of clowns and mice in their kitchen,” Shane says with a smirk, patting Ryan’s shoulder in mock consolation. He lets his hand linger there for a moment, just long enough to deepen their connection so he can get a reading on Ryan’s internal condition. He’s dehydrated, his vitals are all off, his temperature is far below optimal, and his immune system is considerably weakened, if his white blood cell count is anything to go by. Probing a bit deeper lets Shane brush the surface of Ryan’s soul, just enough that he won’t feel it, only so that Shane can get a sense of how bad this really is -- if it’s just a nasty cold or infection or something worse. Going any deeper, feeding the connection anymore -- it’s playing with fire, and Shane isn’t about to put Ryan at risk anymore than he already does on a regular, daily basis. 

Shane withdraws his hand a second later, bile climbing up the back of his throat.

He feels like he’s just been gutted. 

Ryan’s poor condition doesn’t just stop at his body; it goes soul-deep, right to the most essential and vulnerable part of him.

He’s so _weak_. 

Shane grits his teeth and forcibly reminds himself why he shouldn’t burrow deeper, even though he really, really wants to, and this time not for the usual reason. It would be so easy, and he could find the cause and maybe even fix whatever it is, if it’s some sort of supernatural poisoning or demonic taint he’d somehow picked up on one of their ghost hunting adventures. It’s unlikely that’s the issue, considering nothing could come near Ryan without Shane disemboweling it before it could even touch him, but that’s not why he has to resist the urge to go deeper and find out what’s going on. 

The real reason is way more complicated and potentially detrimental than that. 

The thing is, Shane doesn’t have a soul, but he has...something, and whatever that is, it’s formed a sort of metaphysical bond with Ryan’s soul. The first time he’d delved a little beyond the surface of Ryan’s spirit, he wasn’t met with resistance, like he’d anticipated. Human souls, especially untainted ones, naturally shut out anything evil and inhuman. But Ryan’s didn’t, not with Shane. Instead, Ryan’s soul had surged up eagerly to meet him, all golden warm light and vibrant color. It had shocked him even more, how responsive it was to him, how it softened at his touch and opened to him like it was welcoming him home, like he belonged there. He was a fucking _demon_ , something evil and dark and malicious, and Ryan’s pure, _good_ soul was inviting him in to the deepest, most vulnerable parts of him, was encouraging him to come and _stay_. 

Something had told Shane this wasn’t just another part of Ryan’s typical lack of self preservation.

Shane had never encountered anything like that before. He saw and felt Ryan’s soul and he _wanted_. When Ryan’s soul had reached out for him, Shane had gently, curiously latched on, and thus formed the weak beginnings of a bond between them without his conscious decision to do so. And the way Ryan’s soul rejoiced and tugged at him, trying to draw him closer and hold on to more of him, well, it had felt more right than anything in Shane’s entire existence ever had.

It was only a day later, when Shane had went back to his apartment and realized what the fuck he’d done and what it meant that he’d panicked. Soul bonds are sacred, the deepest form of intimacy and connection, and he’d just went and started the beginnings of one with _Ryan_. His best friend. Who had literally no idea about any of it, wasn’t even consciously reaching out for him. Ryan didn’t know what he was doing, wasn’t even aware of what he was expressing or that he was expressing it; how the fuck was he supposed to know the full depth and gravity of what he was offering Shane? Or that he was offering at all? 

It didn’t matter how badly Ryan’s soul wanted the bond if it wasn’t Ryan’s fully conscious decision. Shane might be an evil demon fuck who has done countless, horrible things to hundreds of humans throughout his life time, but he’d never have done _this_ intentionally. Fully aware of what exactly he was doing or not, he did just fucking latch right on and initiate the creation of the first few weak strands tethering them together. Which was absolutely, totally, definitely not his fucking place to do, not with the current condition of their relationship and without Ryan’s fully conscious, well-informed consent. 

So there Shane was, way beyond his pay grade, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do now that the one person he’s ever cared about and the one ritual he’s ever taken seriously have both been compromised because of him. It’s hard to be absolutely, completely fucking evil, exsanguinating assholes and brushing up on torture techniques gleaned from his time in Hell, when all he can do is worry about and long for his human best friend and this illicit thing between them. 

The only solution he could come up with to ‘fix’ the situation was to pretend like the bond wasn’t there. He had to ignore the urge to do what both Ryan’s soul and the bond wanted and nourish and strengthen it so it could grow and deepen and eventually be fully completed.

Thus followed some of the most difficult months of Shane’s life, where he walked -- and is still currently walking -- a very fine line, being as close to Ryan as their friendship permits without nurturing the existing bond that he has no right to. It’s difficult and meticulous, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear the bond down, even though it ultimately would have been the safest, most judicious thing to do. Destroying the fragile, fledgling bond would be excruciating for both of them, and so long as Shane could keep from giving in and immersing himself in Ryan and his captivating golden warmth, it wouldn’t hurt to just leave it alone. It did allow him to be more in tune with Ryan, so he could tell where his human was and vaguely what he was feeling, which Shane used as another excuse to keep it -- this enabled him to better protect Ryan if any supernatural piece of shit came too close while they were out filming. So long as Shane could resist and control himself. Considering everything he’s been through and all the practice he’s had with never taking what he wants, Shane figured it couldn’t be _that_ hard. 

Except he was completely wrong. It was not-- and is still not -- anything even remotely resembling easy. In fact, it’s the exact fucking opposite. Shane has never been so tempted in his life, has never desired something so intensely as he desires Ryan, and longs fervently to share this bond with him in its intended, fully-functional state. And Ryan’s soul isn’t helping, not with the way it tugs at and wraps around him, so eager for Shane to fill in the empty parts that look as if they were _made_ for him. Ryan is so righteous and _good_ , he loves so devotedly and unrepentantly, how could Shane ever want anything or anyone more? It’s torturous, getting these little glimpses of Ryan’s soul, small tastes of what they could have, but he’d rather have this than the nothing that would come from destroying this small, fragile thing that’s taken root between them.

Fuck, Ryan means too much to him for Shane to just detach himself completely; he can’t even imagine it. He’ll endure anything for any amount of time so long as he can keep Ryan by his side.

To make walking this thin line bearable, Shane’s been doing everything in his power to avoid the bond and avoid doing anything that could strengthen or deepen it, and in general, that means anything where he is directly exposed to Ryan’s soul is a no-go. 

And he can live with that. Totally. It’s just ‘a little frustrating’, right now when he needs to figure out what’s making Ryan so weak and sick and he can’t without throwing all of his carefully constructed rules right out the window. 

“I made you some tea, since for some reason you’re like, allergic to coffee. You like chamomile, right?” Ryan looks up at Shane and nudges him with his shoulder, offering him a styrofoam cup topped off with a to-go lid. 

“Yeah. Thanks,” Shane says softly, his throat tight.

It’s a fine line that’s often torturous to walk, but he’ll do whatever it takes to walk it forever if it means he can just keep _this_. 

***


	2. II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos you guys left!! They mean the world to me and I absolutely adore hearing from you all <3 Sorry this chapter took so long to get up! I promise the next one will come much faster! 
> 
> With the next chapter will come some surprises, among them a Spotify playlist for this fic. The song for this chapter? 'Eyelids' by Saro, one of my all time favorites!
> 
> Thank you again for everything, you guys always make my day <3

If Shane’s standing a little too close to Ryan as they knock on Doug’s front door, Ryan doesn’t seem to notice. He can’t help it; keeping distance between them was never his strong suit, and it’s certainly not now, today. Something deep and visceral in Shane wants his human within arm’s reach at all times because not only has he found out Ryan’s soul is sick and dangerously weak, but also Ryan almost blacked out earlier and drove them over a guard rail, and he looks like he’s barely made any recovery at all. He’s got his hands in his pockets as they stand on the front porch and wait, and maybe it’s because it’s fucking cold out here, but it could also be because his hands are shaking and he doesn’t want Shane to see. Maybe if the color returned to his cheeks and his vitals straightened out a bit Shane would relax just a hair, but no, something is really wrong with Ryan. 

Something is so bad it’s drained all the energy out of him, made his soul dim and pulsate in lethargic, weak circles and it’s all so _wrong_. 

Shane’s been thinking a million miles an hour, examining every encounter they’ve had with anything supernatural, searching for anything that could possibly have contributed to any of this. But there’s absolutely nothing that explains it and he’s getting really fucking frustrated with coming up empty handed. What’s most infuriating is that he has the means to figure it out. Pinpointing exactly what’s going on and exterminating the problem is completely within his power, except it’s not, because Ryan’s soul doesn’t belong to him and he isn’t going to immerse himself in it as if it does. 

So either Shane figures out what the hell is wrong some other way, or he comes clean and tells Ryan that, oh yeah, he just happens to be a demon that can decimate an entire city with just the snap of his fingers, and he accidentally bound Ryan’s soul to him, and of course he can’t forget to mention that even though the bond was an accident, Shane’s kind of fucking in love with him. 

Literally everything about this situation fucking sucks. Shane’s hands are tied but he swears to god, or whatever is out there that might be more powerful than him, he’s going to figure this out and get Ryan all better. Maybe then he can begin to wrestle with the idea that eventually he’s going to have a shit ton of confessing and explaining to do to his best friend.

But, for now, they’ve got an episode to shoot, and Shane’s got a lot of very pressing creative thinking to do. 

He’s snapped out of his train of thought when Doug opens the door and greets them with a hearty “Hello!”, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in. Ryan returns the greeting and shakes Doug’s extended hand, and Shane tries to look more engaged than he really is when he follows suit. “Come on in, boys! Can I get you something to drink while I give you the rundown of the ol’ place?” Doug asks, already heading right towards the kitchen. “I’m good--” Ryan starts, but Shane interrupts him.   
“We’ll have whatever you’ve got on hand, thanks.” Ryan gives him a weird look and Shane shrugs with faux innocence, because he totally isn’t scheming to get Ryan rehydrated, nope, not at all.   
“Is lemonade good? Kathy made some this morning, juiced real lemons and everything,” Doug says, pulling some glasses out of the cupboard and setting them down on the counter.   
“Yeah, that’s great, thanks!” Shane calls back as he and Ryan make their way over to a couch situated next to the fireplace in the living room.

Shane takes a look around the cabin as he stretches his legs out, taking inventory of anything that he might need to know about. The cabin actually looks and feels very homely; dozens of framed pictures hang on the wall, most of them family photos with who he assumes are Doug’s grandkids. Sprinkles is curled up and sleeping on the rug in front of the fireplace, and there’s quilts and afghans draped over all the chairs and couches. Shane can’t see or sense anything inside the cabin, not even anything that could be questionable. And frankly, it doesn’t look spooky, like at all. So why did Ryan pick this place?

Doug returns and sits in the armchair across from them after setting two glasses of lemonade down on the coffee table. Shane immediately reaches for a glass and hands it to Ryan, then grabs his own and leans back against the couch as he takes a drink. Ryan’s sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his bent knees as he grips the glass with both hands. Shane wants to reach out and gently shake his shoulder, tell him too loosen up a bit, but instead he takes out his camera and starts getting it set up for the interview shot.

Shane watches Ryan closely when Doug asks about the drive up here as they wait for Shane to get the equipment up and running. He tunes in close to Ryan’s soul, feeling Ryan’s fear and excitement and curiosity, but beneath that, Shane can pick up on the diminished energy and weakness permeating the warmth his soul radiates at all times. It takes a lot of self restraint to stop from frowning as he finishes up and then sits back next to Ryan, trying to clear his head and focus on the conversation. 

“Alright, so what do you boys want to know?” Doug asks, crossing his legs as he settles further back in the arm chair.   
“Well, I did some research on the cabin so I know some of its history and what makes it so haunted, but we wanted to hear about your personal experience with it. I’m sure there’s a lot you’ve seen that Wikipedia just doesn’t cover.” Doug chuckles at that, scratches at the beginnings of a beard on his face, and looks down at his hands as he thinks.

“Right. Let’s start from the beginning, and I’ll try and skim over the parts you probably already know.” Ryan nods eagerly, waiting for him to continue. “So in 1983 my wife and I were looking for a good place up here in the woods to build the little cabin we’d always wanted, so we could be in the great outdoors with our grandchildren so we could all explore when they came over. We figured we could go fishing down at the lake, and camp outside during the summer, and of course there’s room for a garden and Sprinkles always has a new trail to go on for her walks.” Doug smiles, and Shane takes another sip of lemonade, waiting for the stuff that brought the ghoul boys up here in the first place. He’s actually pretty curious now, since so far nothing has seemed even slightly creepy or haunted about this location in the slightest.

“Anyway, we settled on this spot because it’s not far from the lake but it’s also secluded enough that we were really getting away from the city, which is what we needed after living in Seattle for almost forty years. We got the construction crew up here and they started building, and it wasn’t until towards the very end of the whole process that we discovered the _other_ cabin.” Shane was zoning out for a minute, his mind gravitating back to the far more pressing matters at hand, but this last bit has caught his attention. Ryan leans forward in anticipation, eyes the size of dinner plates, and Shane wants to laugh at him because he finds it so dorky and endearing, but he keeps quiet so as not to interrupt. 

“No one had been up in this area and really explored the whole part of the woods here for a very long time, which is why they were eager to sell the land and make use of it. The company that sold us the land hadn’t even scouted the whole place out, because it was such a large area of what they thought was untouched forest. Well, one of the construction workers said he’d found an abandoned building somewhere out in the forest when he was doing an assessment for installing underground plumbing.

“He’d seemed really spooked, and at first we’d thought he was joking, but then we followed him out to where he said it was, and we found this old overgrown cabin way off the property. No one had known it was there -- when I contacted the real estate company, they said they have absolutely no documentation of anyone ever having lived there or built anything. So some guys from the company came up and we put construction on hold and went to go see what the deal was with the cabin, y’know, reevaluate the whole property to see if we can keep building and what we’re going to do about the old cabin. That about brings us up to speed on the general history -- I can get into the scary pieces on the hike up, if you’re both ready to go look at it now.”

Shane blinks slowly. So that’s the kicker -- this cozy little cabin isn’t what’s infested with everything out of Ryan’s nightmares after all. Interesting. Shane stands up, gathering his jacket from the back of the couch, and looks over at Ryan for his reaction as he stuffs an arms through the sleeves and tugs it on. Ryan doesn’t look surprised at all, he no doubt did his research and knew about the other cabin, and probably didn’t tell Shane so that it would be a surprise for both him and the viewers.  
“It’s a bit of a hike from here, hope you boys brought some hiking boots,” Doug chimes as he pockets a very old looking metal key he dug out of the back of a kitchen drawer. Of course Ryan came prepared, he’s got on a brand-new pair of combat boots, a fleece-lined rain jacket Shane’s only seen him wear once when they were in London, and he’s got a comically huge hiking backpack he’s now shouldering into place. Shane has no doubts at all that Ryan’s filled it with all the essentials: first aid kit, snacks, probably Gatorade he got a priest to bless into holy water, y’know, just the usual.

Shane, on the other hand, is wearing his favorite pair of dirty white converse, and Doug doesn’t look like he approves, by the look on his face as gets an eyeful of them. “Alright, let’s get going! You’re both welcome to come back and spend the night in our cabin if you decide you don’t want to sleep in the haunted one -- Kathy and I are visiting our kids and the grandkids down in Olympia for the weekend. Just make sure you’re here before nightfall if you come back up. It’s not safe to be out in these woods past dark.” Shane hears Ryan swallow hard and feels him tense up next to him, and oh yeah, Ryan is definitely already losing his shit. A nice old man saying something ominous never fails to rattle the believer. 

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure we’ll be just fine. We’ve slept in some pretty sketchy places, and the ghosts haven’t gotten us yet,” Shane jokes, and Doug cracks a smile and nods, but his eyes look doubtful.   
“No problem either way, just wanted to offer. You might change your mind once you see the place, anyway.” Doug zips up his coat and the sound makes Ryan flinch, and Shane chuckles instinctively at his overreaction only to be rewarded with a glare from his best friend. The three of them head outside and walk to the edge of the fenced-in backyard, where they then squeeze single-file onto a very narrow trail -- if you can even call it that -- that leads right into the forest. Shane can tell it hasn’t been walked in awhile; bracken has grown over it in patches and it keeps disappearing on and off for several feet before the slight wear in the earth is visible again. Five minutes in and Shane’s already fed up with ducking under tree branches. Doug launches into all of the spooky ghost stories he promised, and while Ryan listens raptly, Shane lets his mind wander back to figuring out how he’s going to diagnose Ryan’s soul without getting too close.

Shane lets his eyes rest on Ryan walking just a few feet in front of him, following Doug’s lead through the dense undergrowth as he thinks. Ryan is less coordinated than he normally is, tripping over rocks and the occasional exposed tree root disrupting the path. Every time Shane is right there to reach out and steady him, of course, but it makes him uneasy, something in the pit of his stomach churning with worry. Then there’s the trembling and the shaking, and Ryan’s abnormally fast heart rate and heavy, ragged breathing. Ryan is pretty decently in shape, and even when they’re at the gym together, Shane’s never heard Ryan this out of breath. Shane’s pretty much sure the weakness of Ryan’s soul is starting to manifest physically, and Shane abruptly is pissed at himself because they’re here in the middle of some godforsaken forest -- when Ryan almost _blacked out_ a couple hours earlier -- and he should totally have Ryan resting somewhere where his shitty human immune system isn’t bound to fall victim to a cold on top of all this. 

The last thing Ryan should be doing is hiking to some haunted demon cabin, or whatever kind of new hell hole they’re on their way to now. Ryan needs...vitamins, and sleep, and for Shane to figure out what the fuck is going on with his soul. Shane runs a hand over his face and exhales through his nose, trying to get a hold of himself. They’re here now, and Shane isn’t going to ruin it for Ryan by being in a bad mood. 

They hike for a solid hour before there’s a clearing in the trees up ahead, and Ryan lights up all over again with simultaneous excitement and fear. He’s fumbling eagerly with the hand-held camera he hurriedly whips out of his backpack, turning it on and getting it aimed at the line of trees where the path ends and opens up to the clearing. Shane catches his eye and Ryan beams up at him, offering him the most disarming smile in the world, so warm and soft it could melt ice.

This single moment feels bigger than the whole world, with Ryan looking at him like that, with this gentle fondness and excitement, like there’s no one he’d rather have by his side than Shane, no matter where they are. Every fucking time Ryan does that Shane feels like the air has been stolen out of his lungs, which he all of a sudden feels like he actually needs to breathe. When Ryan looks at Shane like that, all Shane can feel is this intensity for him, so sure and so certain Shane could level cities, ground planes, wreck ships with its power. 

He’d do all those things and a million more for Ryan, fuck. He wouldn’t even hesitate. 

Human love may be elusive to the supernatural, but Shane knows, without a doubt, that he loves Ryan more than anything the universe has to offer.

Doug has already stepped into the clearing and Ryan’s impatient tugging on his hand draws him back to the present. He follows Ryan through the tree covering and into the diluted sunlight filtering down through the thick blanket of clouds. 

“Well. That’s absolutely fucking horrifying.” Ryan says matter of factly, eyes wide. Shane raises his eyebrows as he takes it in. It’s definitely very old, with log cabin-style walls and the shingled roof hidden under at least a couple inches of moss. There’s a porch out front nearly overcome with ivy and lichen, littered with rotting leaves, broken sticks, and pine cones. The glass in the windows is too dirty to see through, but Shane’s sure in just a minute they’ll be heading inside so it won’t matter anyway. Doug has gone mysteriously quiet, and Shane looks over to see him staring at the cabin with his jaw clenched, spine rigid with unease. “How old is this place?” Ryan asks, turning slowly in a circle to get a panorama with the camera.

“It’s over a hundred years old, they told me. Hasn’t been renovated or remodeled or anything since it was built. Ten years ago or so I had someone come down and make sure it was still structurally sound, and he said it was in surprisingly good shape.” Doug shifts his weight from his left foot to his right, then reaches into his pocket and procures the single key from earlier. “This sounds silly, but I haven’t had the courage to go inside since then.” Ryan laughs nervously as Doug hands him the key. “Like I said, you’re welcome to stay at our home tonight if the cabin… doesn’t work out.” Shane feels Ryan shudder at his side so he moves just a bit closer to give his shoulder a reassuring nudge. He relaxes just the tiniest amount, and Shane counts it as a victory. 

“Do either of you have any questions before you get to your ghost huntin’ and all that?” Doug asks, turning to face them. Shane notes how his smile seems more strained now than it was on the way up.   
“I think we got it from here. Thanks for walking us up and giving us the history of the place,” Shane says, looking back over his shoulder at the cabin. Something is itching just under the surface of his skin, like a faint vibration he can feel resonating in his bones. He ignores it for the moment, though it’s definitely not a great sign.  
“Alright. You boys take care. You have my number if you need anything or have any questions. Just leave the key under the front doormat at our home tomorrow before you head back out.” They shake Doug’s hand again and thank him one more time before he starts his trek back into the trees. 

As soon as he’s out of sight, Ryan lets out a long, heavy sigh and looks at Shane. He looks equal parts giddy and scared, and Shane smiles, aiming the camera at him to capture his nervousness. “Well. I guess we’re really doing this, huh,” Ryan says, shaking his shoulders out and hitching his backpack up higher, as if to steel himself.   
“Yep. The ghoul boys are in for a real treat this time! Tetanus? Falling through the probably rotted out floor? Rats? Oh here we come, baby!” Ryan snickers and elbows Shane, and okay, the way his nose scrunches up and the corners of his eyes crinkle is kind of really fucking endearing.   
“Just wait ‘till you hear the research I did on this place -- this one’ll scare even you, I swear to god!” Ryan fires back, grinning as he shivers. “Even just standing out here I can feel there is some dark shit waiting for us in there.” Shane rolls his eyes and starts walking towards the porch.  
“Nah, I think what you’re feeling is ‘cold’. It’s this thing we don’t really have in L.A.”

“Nope, I’m definitely getting some serious paranormal vibes from this place. You’ll see! Just wait until it’s nighttime, that’s when shit gets really real.” There’s a sudden booming crack of thunder over head that nearly makes Ryan jump straight out of his boots, and Shane bursts out laughing, because he totally got that on camera and the face Ryan made was absolutely priceless. 

“I think that’s a sign from the ghosts, telling us to hurry up and get inside. I think it’s starting to rain _again_.” Shane squints up at the sky as the rain begins to fall, heavier than this morning, because why the hell not, nature sucks.  
“Yeah, no shit, we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Ryan shoots back as they make their across the porch and stand outside the front door while Ryan tries to get the key in the lock. Shane’s about to say that if anyone here is Toto, it’s him, but then Ryan gets the door open and the words die on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 If you've got questions, or are interested in being ghoul friends, or just want to talk about anything at all, come hit me up on tumblr @allpoetsgotoheaven! <3 Lots of love to you all!


End file.
